


It's okay, that's love

by CelestialFairytale



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Awkward Sexual Situations, Complicated Relationships, Deep Route Spoilers (Mystic Messenger), Drama & Romance, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake Marriage, Falling In Love, Hate to Love, Jealousy, Jumin is a jerk, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Miscommunication, One-Sided Relationship, Opposites Attract, Pining, Possessive Han Jumin, Reader Is Not Main Character (Mystic Messenger), Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Sexism, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Thriller, Unrequited Love, han jumin is a good husband, jumin and reader are complicated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24981724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialFairytale/pseuds/CelestialFairytale
Summary: “We both harbour forbidden one-sided feelings that we can never act on. More so, we love so deeply that we can never hope to get rid of these feelings either, or to love other people. In such circumstances, wouldn’t marriage be the only logical solution?”“Marriage?” your voice was not the most dignant thing in that moment. “If you’re trying to be funny again, now’s a really good time to stop.”But there was no humour in his eyes; only the cold intent of a seasoned business man.He was crazy.And you were even crazier to actually consider it.In which Jumin and Reader are both in love with their best friends, and since they cannot act on their feelings, they arrive at the only logical conclusion- an arranged marriage between people that can’t stand each other. [Arranged Marriage! Jumin Han X Reader]
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel/Reader, Han Jumin & Reader, Han Jumin/Main Character, Han Jumin/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 107





	1. Rich and poor don't mix

Your approach to relationships in general was always dictated by a very unconventional worldview- that relationships, at their very core, depended primarily on timing. Relationships formed and fell through because of the little things we called feelings, and these feelings could only manifest if the timing was right. Say you are in an awfully bad mood- maybe you missed your morning coffee or read a particularly nasty horoscope - and there is a cheeky guy who keeps cracking jokes and making cringy puns. You become irritated, dismissive, and start blaming this stranger for the series of unfortunate events that led to your foul mood; and then the stranger gets defensive, and tactless- this becomes the perfect soil for miscommunication, cross glares and consequent argument. Even if you end up seeing the guy again, you can’t help but associate him with the unpleasant emotions you experienced, and so it is almost impossible to refine the prejudice you have developed against him. But consider the same situation in a different light: you’ve just been promoted, and you are ecstatic enough to help a granny cross the street. No one can ruin your mood, not even the cheeky guy! Instead of annoying, his banter feels like awkward flirting, and if you flip your hair in the right light and he compliments your blouse with the right tone, this encounters marks the advent of a beautiful relationship.

It was a weird thought at 11:17PM in WcDonalds’ public bathroom, when you had already been bawling uncontrollably for 3 to 4 hours. Exhaustion already sunk into your body, and your mind was clear again- it felt like that state when you finally sober up from ungodly amounts of alcohol but still feel like absolute shit. Except you weren’t drunk, not on alcohol, anyways.

You couldn’t exactly leave in the state that you were currently at- your heels were broken to the point where they turned inwards, your mascara cladding a good two thirds of your face. Dying in WcDonalds wasn’t exactly the perfect place, you thought, and your corpse was probably going to traumatize the kids that come here. Junk food isn’t good for them, so maybe you’d be doing them a favor in a way.

Timing… Timing was everything after all. Maybe if you just had a bit of luck and better timing, things wouldn’t have turned out this way.

If someone asked you to tell the full story, of how exactly you ended up bawling your eyes out in WcDonalds with no will to push forward anymore, you wouldn’t be sure where to begin. You could technically start with your great great grandfather who gambled away the family fortune and incurred the wrath of your ancestors- a curse that had been passed down the generations. That’s what you liked to believe in, anyways. But that would take a long time, and you weren’t exactly sure about all the historical details. And it wasn’t exactly your story to tell, either. Instead you could start with your own birth- the doctor said that you were an especially plump baby, and that you would lead a happy life; but it turned out even as a baby you realized the only pleasure in life worth having was food, and that appetite of yours drove your parents to mental and physical exhaustion. But if you started there, the story would drag on, so it would be more reasonable to start at a later stage of your life. For example, your life as a college graduate, when you overworked yourself to the point of becoming a regular IV patient at the local hospital, but all you got were still cliches like ‘we’ll call you’ and ‘the job market is saturated nowadays, it’s not easy for anyone’.

No, no, no - you shake your head enough to make yourself dizzy - none of these things were relevant to the story.

…They would have been relevant, to him, if you ever told him…

But you lost that chance already.

The story! You had to focus on the story. And you had to be objective about it. You may have been the main character, but you were definitely not the hero. And as much as it pained you to think it, you had to tell the story truthfully, even if you were a villain in it.

It was a story that began and ended with you falling in love, with the worst possible timing.

* * *

“My feet are going to kill me.”

The skin around your ankles had already started to peel- the wounds never properly heal since your manager demands you to wear the same shoes when you serve the customers. Your only remedy is sticking pieces of paper napkins to lift the foot a little bit, and to muttered apologies to your body for subjecting it to such torture.

“Tell me about it,” Soo Ah, your colleague and best friend, fans herself next to you.

The job isn’t particularly hard today- it’s much more exhausting to sit tables or help in the kitchen. You and Soo Ah have been assigned to greet the guests, bow politely and guide them to their tables; if none are free, you have to preoccupy them by laughing at their tactless jokes all the while not gagging from their heavily perfumed collars. You did not have a problem putting up a fake smile, not anymore, anyways - Soo Ah was the issue with her constant resting bitch face. You had already heard complaints from the manager- Soo Ah makes the guests feel unwelcome, Soo Ah shouldn’t even get paid if she can’t carry out a small task like this, Soo Ah should be fired - and you had to apologize and promise to do two times better to compensate for Soo Ah’s short fallings. You couldn’t lose her, not in this place, where she was probably the only person you could lean on.

Soo Ah wasn’t meant for this job; and neither were you. But money doesn’t exactly grow on trees- and even if it does, you don’t have the time or the luxury to plant one.

“Mr Toupee is with another girl today,” Soo Ah muses, a subtle smirk on her face. This was a small tradition of yours- just snide little remarks about the repeat customers, especially those older, richer men that go through women like socks.

You conclude that Mr Toupee’s business must be booming, as he is much livelier today, smiling brilliantly as he flirts with the receptionist; his toupee is bushier and darker as well, albeit with more prominent age spots sneaking from underneath. There is also a new woman by his side today- possibly younger than both you and Soo Ah, with a dainty feather scarf wrapped around her neck, and a sandy, jewel-buckled dress. If your eyes don’t deceive you, it is the same dress as that of her predecessor. Unknowingly, she stands tall, but her expression is crude, mouth curved with distaste.

You would be insulted if you didn't pity her- Mr Toupee was already surveying the horizons for a new date.

“Well, she’s pretty enough to steal the spotlight, I suppose.”

Linked by arm, the two of them approach you, and the usual ritual of a bow and a ‘good evening’ takes place. You can feel the woman’s gaze on you, seething, even though her lips are curled into an elegant smile. Soo Ah reaches to take her coat - without even looking at your friend, the lady carelessly hands it over.

Before you can register, it plops down on the floor.

You are not sure if it was an intentional ploy to humiliate, or if it was just an accident, but the lady’s eyes bulge as though she just witnessed a homicide.

“Can you believe these girls?” she tugs at her date’s arm to get his attention. “What poor service! You idle around all day, and even though you have one job, you can’t even do it properly.”

Soo Ah’s face could speak miles, even when she didn’t want it to- but now that she wants to, her expression could be put in the dictionary for the universal definition of “I’ll kill this bitch”.

You, the ever sensible (or perhaps more desperate to keep this job, both for her and your own sake), are quick to pipe in and bow in apology.

“Apologies, ma’am. This was not intentional.”

“Well, it clearly was! Look at her giving me such an angry glare. What, do you expect me to pick it up?” she nudges the coat with her foot, lips twisting even further downward. ”Darling, you said this was a reputable restaurant, and yet these women have no manners. Are you sure you want to dine here?”

The older man clears his throat and gives you a hard stare; a corporate executive that does not need to speak to relay the message.

“I am sorry that you felt that way; we can promise you will receive impeccable service for the rest of the night.”

All the while bowing and apologizing, you pinch Soo Ah’s side, twice, before she gets down on her knees to collect the darn coat. This gesture irritates the wounds on her feet further, and she cringes, both when she retrieves it and rises back to her feet.

As Soo Ah’s hands curl around the coat, you can see her knuckles pale.

“You should have stayed down there,” the woman says, her voice jumping a pitch. “It looked like you belonged.”

With that, she gives you both a smile - it feels excruciatingly long before your colleague comes to retrieve the couple and leads them to a table. After serving another pair of guests, the two of you can finally catch a break, but you keep your heads lowered so that no one could see you talk.

“She’s sooo gonna get premature wrinkles from all that glaring,” you say light-heartedly, even though you feel Soo Ah physically tense at your side.

The girl snorts, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand - warm, tiny and full of strength, her fingers are calming and reassuring, and you realize that the situation riled you up far more than you would have cared to admit.

“Thanks for saving me when I was being a little bitch.” Her voice is strained when she speaks; maybe she had more than one reason to keep her head so low, with a curtain of bangs over her eyes.

You squeeze her hand back. “Anytime.”

“She must think she’s hot shit right now,” Soo Ah murmurs. “I wish I could see the look on her face when the geezer asks her to return the jewels and the dress so that he can regift them to his new lover.”

“She’s probably only acting like this because she’s miserable. What a horrible time and country to be born a woman.”

“You can say that again,” Soo Ah sighs. “The thing is, this isn’t even about her being a gold-digger. I don’t have anything against gold-diggers in general. You know, scratch that, I respect gold diggers! To an extent, anyways. What I don’t respect is people like her. Did you see the look she gave us? Like we’re some street beggars. We’re here doing honest work and we deserve better than that…"

She pauses, and swallows painfully.

“No one deserves that.”

If this was a different place, a different situation, you would have sided with her, but now you knew better than to pour gasoline onto the fire that Soo Ah already is.

“You know that there is no winning against them” you mouth as another pair passes through straight to the newly vacant table, watching the silk of the woman's dress ripple like ocean waves. “You have no idea how much I wanted to scratch her eyes out. But we can’t do that. The only thing we can do is pretend that we’re not here, that we’re someone else- like an actress in a film about a dirt poor woman that gets rescued by Korea’s most eligible bachelor.”

Soo Ah snorts again, and your heart swells when the pain on her face dissipates.

“Would you do it yourself then, if there was a chance?”

Soo Ah’s question takes you by surprise and you cock your head to the side in confusion.

  
“I mean marry rich. Having a fancy wedding, child born with a silver spoon, a neglectful, emotionally unavailable rich husband, an affair with the gardener...” Soo Ah bends her fingers as though she’s counting. ”And then… Divorce, probably.”

“Every girl’s dream.” You quirk a smile.

“According to books and movies, it is.”

“Well, books and movies don’t know any better. It’s the same media that thinks that abuse and unhealthy relationships are cute. For them dependency on a partner - the ‘Oh, I cannot live without you’ or ‘I’d rather die than live a life if you’re not in it’ - is the epitome of beauty and romance.”

Soo Ah taps a finger to her chin and hums.

“So then there can be no long-lasting love between rich and poor? That’s a bleak prospect. But I guess money is king after all, even more so for the rich.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” you shrug. “But can love really last if it is based on dependency? I mean, the rich will always play the savior and the provider - and with an established role like that, they wouldn’t exactly want to change the power dynamics. They’re power freaks. The poor, on the other hand, are insecure and tired of life- “I’ve been unsuccessful all my life, so maybe I should just let the rich handle this, surely they know better”. So respect can’t really exist. Fulfilment can’t really exist. But I guess by society’s toxic standards, that is love.”

“Woah,” Soo Ah gives you a quick, soundless round of applause, her mouth gaping in awe. “(Name), you really are a writer. That cynical worldview can only belong to an artistic soul.”

You smile at her overly-expressive display; and you are glad she isn’t asking how the publisher and editor search is going.

The guests start flowing in again as the evening air cools, with car headlights slashing through the windows; the clanking of the cutlery and the drunken conversations grow louder, and you feel smaller, more and more out of place.

Some of the guests are rude and impatient, but it’s nothing new. Both you and Soo Ah can’t really catch a break, with precision at every movement to ensure that no mistakes occur again. By the corner of your eye, you note that her hands tremble every time she takes a guest’s coat.

  
If this evening happened one year ago, you would have dropped everything, grabbed Soo Ah by the wrist and led her into the packed streets of Seoul that smelled like cigarettes and smog. You would have never looked back, or regretted it. But the you who stood here today had been battered, and grew a thicker skin- a skin of exhaustion, fear, reclusion and loneliness. You were just grateful you were inside, dressed in clean clothes, with the comfort of a friend by your side and the future prospect of your cozy, warm bed.

On the first few days of your duty, you were much like an impressionable child in a zoo- you noticed every wrinkle, every odd coloured button or a missing earring. It didn’t even take a month for all of it to become dull- rich people were just rich people, and while they did stand out among the commoners, after a while they just become a formless, colorless mass. There’s a corporate executive in a neat suit, a woman in a lavish dress, a pair of directors in matching ties- and that was as much variation as you would get.

Sometimes people would stand out, for better or for worse reasons. Some stood out due to their tempers, some due to their unconventional fashion sense, some due to their heightened sense of importance.

What stood out to you today was an unexpected pair of an older and a young man. They had the same regal stance and gentle features, coupled with dark, intelligent eyes. It wasn’t unusual to have families dine here, because corporations often operated based more on the heritability rights than they did based on skills and talents. What was unusual was their disposition- those small and subtle, not over the top gestures of affection; this affection wasn’t there for the colleagues or the shareholders, but came from within.

As your thoughts start to drift away, a piece of rich cloth embedded with a pair of initials slips from the older man’s pocket. The restaurant is busy, with sounds overwhelming the gentle background music, and you are sure he won’t notice.

You shouldn’t care, but you do. Something about the genuineness of their feelings moved you, even if it felt sentimental to admit it.

You tap Soo Ah on her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

She protests briefly, trying to grab you by the sleeve, but you slip through- it’s not like you’re going to take forever.

By the time you collect the handkerchief and squeeze past the guests, you had lost track of the older gentleman. You whip your head right and left until you catch sight of what you assume to be his son.

Well, you can just give it to him and leave it at that. You can’t exactly mull around for too long, unless you want to get a scolding from your manager.

The younger man is dressed in a neat and elegant black suit, every detail of his appearance pristine and put together- you would not expect any less of a business man. The only thing that is out of place is one strand of his hair, defiant and proud as it pops out of his otherwise sleek hair.

You decide you like that strand the most as you approach him.

“Excuse me, sir- “ you hold the handkerchief up, as if to make your intentions clear- but when the man looks at you in a hard stare, you freeze up, unable to speak.

That is a frightening expression, you think, primarily because it’s so inhuman. There is no emotion there, not even a tinge.

He sighs, heavily, like he would with a particularly stubborn client, and crossed his arms over the chest, his suit crinkling around the elbows.

“Honestly, your kind really have no restraint. The handkerchief ploy? I’ve seen far better than that, and far more successful.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and you hope - for his sake more so than anyone else’s- that you misunderstood what he just said. In an awkward position where you can’t either walk away or put the handkerchief down, you stand stunned, brain frozen to the point you cannot form a coherent thought.

“Excuse me?”

“How unsighly,” His brows furrow ever so slightly. ”You should at least have the courage to admit your intentions.”

The handkerchief soon crumples in your hands, and your knuckles become as pale as the tablecloth.

“Sir, I am not sure what you are insinuating, but I am merely trying to return this handkerchief to your father.”

“I assumed as much, judging by your lipstick stain on it.”

Your… lipstick? You were sure you didn’t put it anywhere your mouth- who does that, anyways?. Frantic to prove him wrong, you flip the handkerchief over, only to gasp audibly. There was indeed a lipstick stain in shape of a kiss, that of a gentle shade of (favorite lipstick color) that you were currently wearing.

“What- This isn’t- I didn’t” You stammer, both enraged and confused.

The young man seems unaffected by your sudden outburst, and his bored emotion looks like that of a spectator after a particularly bad acting performance. His expression crumbles a little only when you slam the handkerchief to the table a bit too forcefully, and the cutlery shivers from the impact.

The tips of your ears begin to burn- how could he have thought... did he really assume... do you look...?

You breath hitches in your throat, and even though it’s physically painful to speak, you open your mouth-

Only to be knocked off balance by a pair of small yet surprisingly strong hands. They knit into your sleeve and begin to pull you away from that man- that man you still had so many things to say to. You flail and shriek both in surprise and in protest, but it falls deaf on Soo Ah’s ears.

“Breathe, (Name),” Soo Ah hisses into your ear. “Whatever he said to you, it’s not worth it. Remember what you just said to me? There’s no winning against them.”

For a stunned moment, you watch helplessly as your best friend runs back up to the man, and bows earnestly, as if her life depends on it. The man’s expression doesn’t change, and he mouths something briefly- you assume it’s something along the lines of ‘it’s fine’ or ‘fire her’.

“Soo Ah, it’s-”she shushes you again once she comes back to retrieve you, all the while pulling you back to your post. “Min Soo Ah, listen to me! He thought I was hitting on his father!”

You may have said that one a little too loud- a couple of guests turn to your direction and murmur among themselves. Not that you care, anyways.

She stops to look at you, critically.

“I didn’t do it!”

“Come down, I didn’t say you did. All I saw was you with a murderous intent written all over your face - if I came any later you would have been in the process of pulling all of his hair out.”

You cross your arms over your chest.

“I was going to explain myself. Until you came, anyways. He misunderstood! And was awfully rude about it!”

Soo Ah’s shoulder slump in defeat as she heaves a sigh.

“Name… Do you honestly think he would listen? He’s the elite of the elite, and what he says goes regardless of what the truth may be. They hate admitting they’re wrong- especially when a lowly restaurant waitress is the one who points it out.”

You knew that you wouldn’t have achieved anything, staying there and arguing. But the humiliation, frustration, the inner turmoil- it didn’t hurt any less. If only you were a little bit more lucky, if your life turned out a bit better, you wouldn’t have to suffer through something like this. You wouldn’t have to walk away after being so wronged. You wouldn’t have to smile and thank the person making your best friend kneel.

Soo Ah’s face softens as she looks at you.

“You’re never going to see him ever again. Who cares what he thought? What he assumed about you says more about him than it does about you.”

You timidly nod, and tears well up in yours eyes when her warm hand squeezes your shoulder reassuringly.

“He was so disgusted by me…” your voice breaks halfway, but you want to speak, and you know Soo Ah will understand. “How could he even assume I would… I just wanted to help…”

It was just unfair. This entire day was unfair and it sucked.

You wanted to disappear. You wanted to slap everyone in this stupid restaurant. In the rich world, there truly was no kindness- only the need to put others down to prove their superiority. Appearances could be misleading. You knew that. But still, why did you feel so betrayed, so disappointed…

“Hey. Hey,” Soo Ah repeats, gently seizing your shoulder to have you look at her. Your puffy red eyes weren’t a pretty sight to behold. “What just happened to you was horrible. But just- just erase it! Our shift ends soon, so let’s get some beer and chicken and cozy up in my living room to watch your favorite kdrama, okay? And I promise I won’t even groan at the cringy scenes. Even though it’s going to be really really hard.”

Through soft sobs, you giggle and Soo Ah laughs with you, although her laugh is more strained and relief filled.

She was right. You knew it yourself, but it felt more real to hear it from her.

Tomorrow will be better. So what if you ran into some horrible people- it’s not like they’re going to be around you all the time. Today was probably the first and the last time you saw them- _him_.

Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this is a bad first chapter, and reader has a few established traits and a bit of a background. But honestly, with all the evil things I have planned everything I mentioned is crucial. And I feel like her struggles are quite relatable? At least to me, haha.
> 
> I got inspired by a tumblr post that drew some very cool insight on the characters- how all characters have different qualities they would appreciate in MC, and basically how the MC in Jaehee's route would never get to Jumin's good ending because she's too assertive, headstrong and independent.


	2. The rift

You ended up going to your apartment after all - Soo Ah’s roommates had no concept of personal space or tact, and you weren’t exactly in the most social mood at the moment to begin with.

What greeted the two of you was not a pleasant sight: piles of empty take away bags and free sauce sachets, and plants that were in a desperate need of watering. You grabbed around in the dark until you found a light bulb that was still working, and threw together a nest of pillows and blankets cosy enough to turn your body into goo.

“Aghh, my bones,” Soo Ah stretches out her limbs, some of the joints popping sharply. “Unpopular opinion, but I literally cannot wait to be old. No need to even get out of bed. You’re just wrinkly and old, and have a nasty wheeze - so everyone just stays away and minds their own business. That, my friend, is the definition of heaven.”

“Let’s not talk about retirement,” you grumble while snuggling further into the blankets. They smell a bit like soda that you spilled a few days ago. “Being old sucks when you’re like us, poor and with no prospect of ever being rich. We should be saving for our retirement right now but the pocket change we get is barely enough to buy food and pay rent.”

You lazily turn on the most recent drama on the TV, about this poor country bumpkin who moves into a big city and starts living with a guy who is broke after buying an apartment. Oh, and there is a cute cat. Cats make everything better.

Soo Ah’s whines soon turn into a fit of fake crying; you are not sure if she’s upset about the drama, or about what you just said.

“We said we were going to watch what I want,” you remind her.

“I know, and it’s not about it. It’s just that you reminded me so much of my mom and I got depressed. Last time we talked she threatened to disown me if I don’t get married in the next three years,” Soo Ah tosses and turns, as if trying to shake off the weight of those words. “I tried to explain to her that I can’t afford dating anyone, but she won’t have any of it.”

You don’t say anything, just distantly ponder how your parents might be doing in the countryside.

“Aaaargh, (Name), please turn into a guy and date me,” Soo Ah clasps her arms and legs around you like a panda around a bamboo tree. She smells like your shower gel, and she’s skinnier than you remember. It’s refreshing to see her out of the usual waitress get up, but her appearance also makes you worry - the weather stained T-shirt you borrowed her is pooling around her body, and her face, now bare of makeup, is stained with blemishes. The once bright copper brown of her hair had washed off to a tamer shade, with dark roots peaking at her parting.

The soft background murmur of the TV and the smooth ripple of the fairylights above your head gradually lulls you to sleep.

As though through haze, you hear Soo Ah murmurs, her sleepiness corrupting her articulation.

“I won’t work as a waitress for the rest of my life. I’m doing an internship at this big corporation... And if they take me, I’ll ditch.”

You feel guilty that the first thing you feel isn’t happiness for Soo Ah’s success, but a pang of sadness.

“I hope it all works out for you.”

She breathes a smile into your hair.

It made sense- Soo Ah was smart, lovable and hard working- in your mind she deserved the world itself. But without her, you weren’t sure you could last. This was such a lonely city, and you only had her; you didn’t consider yourself strong enough to burden those everyday troubles, and to keep pushing forward in the bleak reality that you lived in.

“How is your writing going?”

You knew that question was coming sooner or later, and that it was just unpleasant for Soo Ah to ask as it was for you to answer. Briefly, you consider pretending to be asleep, but Soo Ah knew your exactly how you breathe, mumble and shuffle in sleep better than your own mother.

“That boat has sailed,” you say, trying to add an edge of playfulness and humour, but it ends up sounding anything but.

Soo Ah bolts up as if shot, starting the daylights out of you.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I told you already, you need to be more confident in your writing. You know, it’s all nepotism and money in the publishing industry. You have to believe in yourself ten times more to keep going. And you have to keep going! They don’t understand what they’re missing, but if you just hold on for a little bit longer, I’m sure they’ll realize it.”

You sigh, and hate that it sounds almost as thought you’re frustrated with her. “Soo Ah, it’s not a ‘they’ issue. I think it’s about time I grew up and admitted that it might just be me.”

“That’s because the timing isn’t right! They aren’t ready for your novels. It’s hard, and it gets you down, but you need to keep going. You cannot just give up on your passion like that. If you stop writing… You’ll…”

You sigh again.

“It’s… childish. I don’t want to talk about it. We talked about me too much today anyways,” you pause and then groan. “I’m sorry. This …about making all of this about me again. It sounds like I’m comparing us, but I’m really not. I’m so happy you’re getting closer to your dream, Soo Ah. I really am.”

She doesn’t answer for a moment, and you ponder if she might be angry with you. It must be hard for her to keep encouraging that empty dream of yours. To entertain such a groundless fantasy- how embarrassing. You open your mouth to apologize, but she speaks first.

“You know Buddha only started his spiritual journey when he was 29 years old. Age is just a number,” she lightly punches your shoulder. “You need to stop thinking about life as a race. Get a job by 22, get promoted by 25, get married by 27, have kids by 30… Life isn’t just a bunch of predetermined milestones. Just because things aren’t going according to a plan, or because you aren’t yet in a place you want to be in, doesn’t mean everything is lost. Okay?”

She’s always too kind.

You hate using her like this. Even earlier today she was your emotional crutch. And now again. Is there really a reason for her to stay at all, if all you do is cry and moan?

You need to stop doing it.

“Should I become a spiritual leader then?” you snort.

She hits you harder this time, and you giggle as you rub your forearm.

“You are an idiot.”

She still cuddles up to you to sleep.

* * *

"It feels like it's been written by someone who has never experienced love."

  
You thought that by now you knew this pain well enough, and it wouldn’t hurt as much as the first time; surprisingly, just like love, rejection always caught your heart off guard, and managed to find those soft, vulnerable spots no matter how well they were hidden.

The editor flips through the manuscript like she would through a menu at a cheap fried chicken restaurant around the corner. Her dainty pink nails glitter under the bright, flickering office lights, and you cannot force yourself to look away at the sentence she’s delivering, wordlessly.

She puts down the draft in a tediously slow manner, all the while sighing, and then takes her glasses off. When she turns to look at you again, it’s a more intimate moment, except her gaze is like that of a school principal ready to lecture the school's unruliest child.

“It’s really hard to trace the core themes that you’re trying to tackle here.”

“Ah, well, if you look at this section, err,” you furiously flip through the pages, completely indifferent to the papercut that blooms on one of your fingertips. “From page 54 forward, it actually shows that the entire romance subplot is only needed as a parallel for self-love, self-actualization and that the heroine-”

“Oh darling, I understand that,” the editor interjects, rapping her nails against the wooden surface of the table. “It’s very admirable that you’re trying to think of something fresh, but just because it’s interesting to you doesn’t mean it’s interesting to everyone else. And we see it so often- people think writing can be done by just anyone. Well, anyone can get published, but is there really a point in publishing a book that will only gather dust?”

Your shoulders shrink, sweaty fingers struggling to keep their hold on the manuscript.

“A-ah, but our women - our society” you clear your throat, voice uneven. Even your own body is giving up on you now - dry mouth, blurred vision, cloudy thoughts - but you still push. “I mean, if we’re trying to lead a change in the gender roles and sexual-”

“Oh, dear, it’s really cute of you -”

“- it’s just that I think there is still much prejudice aga-”

“Have some of your coffee,” she interjects and pushes the cup towards you rather forcefully, with liquid swirling out of place and speckling around the table.

You gulp it down a little bit too quickly; it's cold and so sugary it makes you cringe and cough. You feel sick and dizzy, and it takes an effort to clench your hands and compose yourself again.

“I’m just saying this as an advice, but I think you could spend your time in a more productive manner, you know? It doesn’t look like you have a boyfriend, so you could work on that first.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, still clad in sugar, and hesitantly nod.

“Listen…” she takes a glimpse at the computer screen and squints. “(Name)? It is our mission to help writers flourish. But your excessive persistence - how many times has it been already? - isn’t that a bit unbecoming of a lady such as yourself.

You nod again.

And then she leans in closer, as though to tell you a secret.

“It’s really hard to admit it to yourself at first. But after that, it can be relieving more than anything. Not everyone needs to be special to lead a happy life, y’know?”

Your hands curl around the manuscript more firmly, and they crumple in your hold. It’s not like it matters, you suppose.

“Do you understand what I mean at all darling?” she cocks her head to the side while inspecting you. “You have this… peculiar… look on your face, and it sometimes feels like it all goes over your head. Do you want me to explain it in simpler terms dear?”

Your throat is so scratchy that you can barely swallow.

“No, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

She ticks something in the form and without even looking up at you bids you a farewell. “Be safe, okay?”

You don’t remember the ride back home itself. The editor’s office is an hour and a half away from your house, but the journey feels much longer than that; you have to mentally chide yourself when your focus keeps slipping. The sweaty, dirty bus smells like nothing. The people have no faces, and merge with one another as they squeeze in to fit in the cramped space. When you finally leave the bus, you feel like your body is floating, feet barely touching the ground. You desperately want to drink some water, but at the same time you feel like you’d throw up as soon as you took a gulp.

By the time you’re in your home area, you do not have the energy to go to the grocery store.

That night, you fling the manuscript into the trash and go to sleep on empty stomach.

* * *

Your sleep isn’t peaceful or long because of the blinding light that seems to emanate from the ceiling. Did you leave the lights on last night? You feel faint, to the point of not having the energy to turn in your bed, but then you think about the electricity bill and it inspires strength.

Your eyes peel open groggily, and you become more keen on other senses; somewhere in the distance, you hear the monotone of some weather forecaster, and a quick banter of people who are playing cards. When exactly did your neighbours buy a radio? And why would they do something like this so early in the morning? Unless-

You bolt up in the bed, and in an immediate response your head start pounding. It doesn’t take a detective to deduce that you are not home, and you are not well at all - in a white gown, with IV lines propped in your veins, both nausea and pain in just about every part of your body, you are alarmed to say the least.

You’re in a hospital. And it’s morning. You were supposed to be on your shift, at this exact moment. With new found panic, you reach around for your wallet and your phone, scanning the ward for your clothes or anything that would be familiar to you.

Then you curse it all, and turn your attention to your arm. You have to get to work as soon as possible. But before you can rip the IV out of your arm and escape through the window like a phantom thief, the door swings open ceremoniously, with loud footsteps and an even louder voice ringing through the empty ward.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, girl,” the doctor sounds slightly irritated, his voice scratchy like that of a heavy smoker.

You sigh, deeply, as if issuing a complaint.

“I need to go to work.” You say nonchalantly, still tampering with the IV lines. You would prefer not to hurt yourself in the process, but the darn thing is less than cooperative.

“What you need is rest and proper nutrition. When was the last time you ate, anyways? Do you even realize the current state of your body?”

“That’s not what matters right now,” you protest, frustrated with the realization that leaving isn’t going to be as easy as you expected. This looks like a private wand, in some private clinic - how in the hell were you going to pay for all of this? “If I’m late to my job, I’m going to get fired, and you have no idea how hard I worked to get-”

“What’s important right now is your health, young lady,” he says sternly. “If your friend hadn’t brought you in last night, you could have very well been on the news today - not the good kind, either.”

You give him a glare before answering. “At least I would have been famous.”

The fine lines in his forehead grow deeper, and you conclude that he’s not a big fan of your humour.

The meaning of his words doesn’t immediately click in your brain- it takes you a moment to realize he said friend. You only have one friend, Soo Ah, and you are sure the last time you saw her was two days ago, when you had a sleepover at yours. She would have no purpose to come and bring you to the hospital. Last night… Come to think of it, last night you came back from the editors and went straight to sleep.

… Does that mean you somehow fainted on the street? Did you ever even make it to your apartment, or was that just a fever dream?

“Your friend here is awfully uncooperative,” you hear the doctor speak, but this time it’s not directed towards you; you could tell just by the shift in his tone and attitude. “I know women nowadays take all sorts of silly measures to lose weight, but if she keeps doing something like this, she can get seriously hurt.”

There is a new voice, bright and sonorous. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again.”

It’s not hard to spot the owner of the voice- people like her are impossible to miss, after all. Your line of work exposes you to glamorous people, and women with beauty that would be praised by bards, but it is often not the type of beauty that goes beyond the surface proportions. The person that stood in front of you, however, had a magnetizing presence, with eyes that can pin you down in place and infuse you with unimaginable warmth.

And then this person turns to face you, a look of surprise on her face. She approaches you respectfully, and bows, morning sun shimmers smoothing over her blond tresses like they would over the finest of silks.

“This must have been so frightening to you,” her eyes are full of earnest worry. “I… I know it wasn’t my place to get involved, but you were suffering so much. I could not bear to just stand there and watch. I will understand if you get upset with me, but know that I only had your best interests in mind.”

You hear her talk, and you understand every word she utters, but your main question goes unanswered. Why? Why would she go to such lengths for some person off the street? This wasn’t the countryside where everyone knew everyone, this was Seoul where your blissful unawareness of others’ existence was the gold standard of happiness.

Is she the hospital’s staff? Some illegal human trafficker? How did this inhumanly kind stranger find you in this cold, lonely city?

“I… don’t think I understand. Why would you do so much for someone like me?”

She chuckles, her complexion glowing.

“This is what I believe in. My religion says to help others wholeheartedly, to end their suffering and bring them happiness through our own personal efforts.”

She carefully sits on your bed, the weight of her body making the mattress dip. It was weird, she was weird- you didn’t know this girl, and you were naturally cautious of her as she was a stranger, but being so close to her felt… surprisingly peaceful.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I don’t deserve your thanks. I can see that I couldn’t help you at all. You are still in so much pain, even now.”

Her face is wrecked with honest guilt, as if your misfortunes are her doings- and you cannot help but panic at her words.

“I-I’m feeling so much better! The IV works wonders, haha. Honestly, I feel like I just went on a long relaxing holiday.”

She looks even more upset after your desperate efforts to make matters better.

And then she reaches for you - gingerly, giving you enough time to pull away - but when you make no effort to move, she gently lays her warm palm atop of your hand.

“Someone like you especially… I could not possibly comprehend your pain because I’m not an artist, but a very good friend of mine has told me once that creating art is much like tending for a child. There are moments of absolute bliss and fulfilment, where you cannot imagine a happier day in your life… Only for days of seething, torturous pain to come where you reconsider your existence. There’s remedy for all kind of pain, but not for one that stems out of the need to create.”

You contemplate whether you should stay quiet or voice your thoughts for a moment.

“I think it’s unfair that you put those expectations on yourself, miss,” she raises her eyebrows in surprise, listening intently. “This suffering is very much self-induced. And not out of anything beautiful or poetic. I choose to suffer because of my pride. Because even more than this suffering, I hate the idea of giving up and admitting the truth. So please do not think of it as your duty to help me in that sense. You already did so much… And I have no money to repay you.”

“Money?” She chuckles briefly, but it’s a warm, friendly kind of laugh. “Oh no, don’t even think about it. I truly meant it when I said that I helped you out of my own volition. In that sense, maybe I’m selfish, prideful, too… But if you still feel indebted to me, I could try to think of something.”

She hums in thought for a moment- but it takes her no longer than that, as she clasps her hands together and beams.

“How about you come with me to party this weekend? There are going to be a few representatives from an elite writing society, so it will be worth your time.”

You stare back at her, dumbfounded. You… A party? With elite writers? Surely she’s joking? Before you can recover from the initial shock and answer her, the girl speaks again with the most sincere tone.

“And then perhaps one day… When you’re comfortable and confident enough, you would let me read your book?”

* * *

“You are unbelievable, (Full name).”

Soo Ah doesn’t use that voice often, if ever. She’s as expressive as it gets, and one could easily mistake her for a film actress. The voice she’s using right now is different, because it cannot be allocated to a single emotion. It’s complex, impossible to describe or imitate. And it’s only for when someone important to her has fucked up, big time - you’ve heard it only once, when Soo Ah’s niece got into a love affair with an older married man.

You knew that you were in trouble the second you saw 21 missed calls and 56 messages, all from Soo Ah. She didn’t say anything in front of your colleagues - she filled in for you and came up with a believable sob story to excuse your absence, so you deduced there was still at least a small part of her that didn’t want to rip all of your hair out.

As soon as the lunch break came, however, you were unceremoniously pulled into the cramped cleaning supplies room. From the impact that your body made, the brooms scattered around the two of you, and you felt dizzy from the dim light and the strong smell of bleach.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was? I was so desperate that I was about to call up your mom, for Christ sake!”

With her hands on her hips, her form framed by the distant restaurant lights, it truly looked like you wouldn’t be leaving until she was satisfied with her interrogation.

“Well, I’m lucky that you didn’t,” you mumble, trying to put at least some of the brooms back to their rightful places; unfortunately for you, your shuffling resulted in more of them falling out.

“Oh you think you’re lucky,” her voice was laced with venom. “You’re lucky we’re at work right now and I can’t beat you up. Just wait til our shift ends. I’ll show you lucky.”

“Soo Ah…”

“Don’t ‘Soo Ah’ me! Do you realize… After everything that happened to us just a few days ago, after all the things that you said,” she runs out of breath, and pauses to gather herself. As she exhales, her shoulder shrink, and she looks small, defeated. “I thought… I thought.”

You know that she’s not going to finish that sentence. None of you want to hear that implication. If it ever manifested in words, ìt would become too real, an actual threat. But just the fact that it was in the back of her mind meant that you worried her again. It’s as if she doesn’t have enough things to deal with on her own.

Gingerly, you reach our for her.

“I’m sorry, Soo Ah. I really am. You know I would never do anything to make you anxious. It’s just… Last night didn’t go at all how I planned and I-”

Her brows furrow again and her feature gain a sharper edge; your touch reclines and you take a more defensive stance.

“...Well, long story short, I got into a bit of trouble, and this woman helped me out.”

Soo Ah throws her arms up, choking out an indignant sound.

“Do you even hear yourself, (Name)? Getting involved with strangers, in the middle of the night? Do you have a death wish or something?”

You groan, rolling your eyes.

“Just calm down and listen to me. You’re literally interpreting it in the worst kind of way. She was benevolent, and-”

“So? Are you in debt now? Did you give up a kidney to pay them?”

You would lie if you said that the hint of mockery in her voice didn’t hurt you.

“- As I was saying, she’s like a charity person. Religious. She believes in doing the right thing, by helping people without expecting anything in return.”

“So you’re saying you got involved with a cult.”

“She’s not - “ you inhale sharply. “Oh my lord, Soo Ah, you’re impossible.”

That was something you shouldn’t have said; Soo Ah’s face gets at least three shades darker and you swear you can see smoke coming out of her ears.

“Impossible? Excuse me for having a panic attack when you basically disappeared and didn’t even bother to text or call me back. Of course, Miss (Name) is so busy nowadays she cannot even text a short ‘Hey, I’m not dead’ because no, that would just take up too much of her time! And it’s not like she cares about Soo Ah’s well being! Yeah, let’s just leave her in the dark when she’s basically having a breakdown.”

Those words hurt. More than you ever thought they could hurt you. It felt like a rift opened up, suddenly, out of nowhere- she didn’t even ask if you were okay. You were straight out of the hospital from mental and physical exhaustion and she’s joking about you being ‘too busy to text her’.

You felt that before, but now, more than ever, fuelled by anger, you felt like there were things Soo Ah would never understand. There were things you shouldn’t even bother telling her.

And that alone felt like losing Soo Ah altogether.

“So do you have to pay them?” she asks again, but this time her voice is tamer. She isn’t looking you in the eye, and she rubs her forearms rapidly enough to give herself burns.

“No, it’s not like that,” you try to sound patient and collected. “If anything, she said she wanted to help me. She invited me into a fundraising party where I could meet successful writers and publishers.”

Soo Ah, unfortunately, did not share your enthusiasm.

“So this girl randomly picked you up on a street and invited you to a ‘party’. Sure, that’s really classy. It’s clearly either a pyramid scheme or a cult.”

Rika - it was the name of your benefactor as you learned later - wasn’t like that, and you knew it. There was no point in arguing; all you could say was ‘she isn’t like that’ or ‘you’d understand if you saw her’. But something like that would only add ground to Soo Ah’s arguments.

Because Soo Ah always knew best.

“You aren’t actually considering it, right?” she cocks a brow.

“Considering what?”

Soo Ah gives you a ‘what else’ look before spelling it out to you impatiently. “That party, of course! You won’t go, right?”

You weight your words before you respond. You didn’t even have the chance to consider Rika’s offer, because it all happened too quickly. The hospital meeting still felt like a haze, her radiant aura, charming smile and a benevolent heart; and after that you were in such a rush your thoughts were all preoccupied with catching a bus, running and apologizing to Soo Ah.

“...I mean why not? It’s not just a fancy party, it’s an opportunity to network. The venue is quite large and well known, and their fundraising group is all over the internet. It all checks out, as the girl I met this morning is the party coordinator and the head of the organization.”

Soo Ah gives you a long, frustrated sigh.

“It’s not hard to forge this kind of information, (Name), especially if her main line of business is swindle money out of people,” Soo Ah gives you a long, hard look. “You’re not going. I can’t believe we’re even having this discussion.”

If you weren’t sure before, now you were certain.

“I want to go,” you say firmly. “I already feel miserable as it is, and if I skip a chance like this, it’s going to be ever worse. And besides…”

I want to see Rika again. I want to talk to her, tell her about what I’m writing about…

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” Soo Ah shakes her head with an incredulous expression. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into you.”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so edgy! Just because I didn’t call? I told you I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not updating you 24/7. What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stop being stupid!” Soo Ah raises her voice, her gestures growing larger, sharper. “Are you going to climb into a van if a nice uncle offers you candy? Whoever that woman is, she clearly has ulterior motives, and you’re an idiot to fall for her act!”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, looking at each other with unrelenting, uncomfortable stares. Soo Ah holds her breath when she’s angry, and now her breathing is strained, loud. She’s still blocking the exit; you want to leave, but you also want to say something, anything, to make this better.

When Soo Ah speaks again, her voice isn’t angry; it’s indifferent.

“Do as you please (Name). You clearly don’t need my advice - or me, for that matter. So yeah, good luck.”

You watch as Soo Ah's form recedes and merges with the bleak restaurant walls; and in a distant corner of your mind, you cannot help but think that you do not know Min Soo Ah that well anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo... this was a ride.  
> okay so first, all the exposition stuff is done and over with. that means we finally get to see the rfa and make some new friends!!! ..yay?  
> it was a bit of a weird chapter to write. i tried really hard to make it very clear just how hard reader has it. like honestly, someone give her a hug. and i think it makes sense for her to look up to rika? especially the kind rika that we never really got to know in the game; the kind person that everyone in RFA loved so much.  
> the argument with soo ah... was so painful to write. since we see from the perspective of the reader, it makes sense for us to be 'omg soo ah you're literally the worst' but if you just take a second and put yourself in soo ah's shoes... like sure, she could have reacted better but she makes some fairly good points that reader fails to acknowledge. i hope reader and soo ah make up soon though :<  
> Thank you so much for all the support!! I'm honestly so excited to share this story with other people, and I really look forward to the next chapter (P.S SOME GOOD JUJU STUFF COMING UP!!!).


	3. Anger has an ugly after taste

_0 messages._

If your phone was made out of clay, you would have already moulded it into a very awkward shape.

You did not know why exactly you were pacing, and what you were waiting for. Your mind was like a pendulum - a back-and-forth between useless anxieties - what if you embarrass yourself, what if you spend the entire party in a lonely corner - and ecstatic thoughts of seeing Rika and meeting other writers.

Logically, you realized that _her_ response wouldn’t have changed anything. If it was a ‘good luck’ or ‘have fun’, you would doubt her sincerity and question if she was still cross with you. If she said, ‘I literally told you not to go’, you would still go, as if to prove something to her, to yourself.

The sweet mist of the perfume did not settle, and in time it became irritating, suffocating; with all your frantic pacing, you almost tripped over the trail of clothing on the floor. Soo Ah grinned at you from the poloroid hung on your laptop screen - it was taken at her birthday party last year. Back then, she didn’t dye her black hair, and you wore the same black dress as today. You remembered how in her drunken stupor, she poured booze all over it, and it brought a smile to your face.

_0 messages._

You turn to go, making a mental check of all the things you need to bring, as if to stall for just a little longer. By the time you reached the door, your stomach was doing backflips, and out of habit, you turned your head to look at that one spot on your bed, where Soo Ah always sat. You could almost hear her: “Smile, (Name)! You look so cute when you smile.”

You promise yourself that you are not going to regret going.

You regretted going as soon as you reached the subway station and it started to pour; it was almost as though the nature itself was trying to warn you, but your stubbornness and naivety stopped you from seeing the obvious signs.

* * *

The venue wasn’t in the most favourable of locations - you had to take the subway, and then the bus, and then desperately flail around with your phone when the GPS tracker went on and off. You’d hoped that by the time you got off the bus, the rain would have stopped, but it was quite the opposite- it turned into a full blown storm with wind that broke umbrellas and lighting that made the streets sparsely populated.

You, with no umbrella or shawl to cover yourself with, were reduced to a fashionable ‘’wet stray dog’ look in a matter of minutes.

You ended up taking a route through the park, as you didn’t exactly fancy being splashed with water by each passing car. The venue only emerged after you squeezed through the trees and bushes - at this late hour the park had already shut lamps - but the building itself was impossible to miss. It was mostly modern, but had retained some older architecture that dated back to Goryeo; the rose gardens blossomed over the guardian statues, yet the serene atmosphere was overwhelmed by the siege of reporters and a row of limousines parked at the end of the red carpet.

In the glimmer of the cameras and glamorous evening dresses, you felt yourself shrink and shiver in the cool rain.

_Breathe in. And out._

You gingerly stepped on the carpet, your hands wrapped around your body. A particularly bright flash lit up too close for comfort, and you gasped, stumbling backwards only to bump into an older gentleman.

You bowed furiously to apologize, and people turned their heads to whisper. There was a pang in your chest - no matter how you dressed up, you will always belong among the people who serve the drinks and show the guests to their tables. This spotlight did not suit you one bit.

“Name!”

It’s Rika who called out, loud and clear for everyone to hear. She was beautiful, as always, with her luscious locks pinned up, a formal suit fitted to her curves; the very sight of her in this overwhelming environment made your body inadvertently relax.

“I’m so happy you came,” Rika said as you approached her, reaching out to hold your hand. “But you’re freezing! Did you get caught up in that storm? I really hoped for it to be a clear evening, but it started pouring out of nowhere.”

You smiled and nodded shyly, apprehensive of the eyes that were on you at that moment, all asking: _Why is she here? Is she really special enough to be treated with such love and care by the party coordinator?_

In tune with your thoughts, Rika gently pulled you inside; he warmth made your body shiver.

To say that the inside of the venue matched the outside would have been an understatement. It was pristine, wide, gleaming with gold and polish - with porcelain wine glasses clanking and iridescent chandeliers raining down generous lighting.

“It's quite a sight, isn't it?” Rika said from behind you, smiling at your obvious awe. “I really wish I could show you around, I think you're to love the decor... But I still have to greet the party guests. In the meantime, you absolutely have to meet the rest of the RFA. I’m sure you will become fast friends.”

You opened your mouth to protest, waving your hands around in a fit of panic and anxiety, but Rika’s gaze drifted into the crowd.

“Yoosung! Over here!”

She was waving and beaming at whoever stood behind you; in that moment, you became excessively aware of how wet your dress was and how frizzy your hairstyle had become - not the best first impression, to say the least.

“Oh wow!” The person behind you gasped. “There are so many reporters outside. Did you invite some super famous guests this time?”

Rika chuckled.

“I guess the parties are getting bigger each year. That’s a sign that I’m doing things right!” Rika put her hand on your shoulder to gently edge you towards ‘Yoosung’. “I want to introduce you to someone very important to me.”

You gave him a polite bow, and finally turned to face him fully, albeit gingerly.

“Yoosung, this my friend (Name).”

“Oh! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Yoosung Kim, Rika’s cousin.”

The boy did not look similar to Rika on a physical level - he had short brown hair and violet-tinted eyes - but the earnest smile and the radiance of his complexion were definite proofs of their common background.

“I can already tell you two are going to get along so well,” Rika smiled. “Now, Yoosung, I have a very important task for you. Tonight, you’re going to be (Name)’s guardian. I need you to introduce her to everyone in the RFA, and to make sure that she’s comfortable at all times.”

“You want me to introduce her to everyone in RFA?” Yoosung cocked his head to the side. “Should I just say that she’s your friend?”

“Yes. It’s very important to me that you all get along.”

You weren’t exactly sure how you felt - you only came here to network a little bit, not get involved with their entire organization. At the same time, it didn’t really look like you had a choice.

“Okay!” Yoosung excitement was soon evident in his bright smile. “I think I saw Zen and Jaehee just around the corner. Don’t worry and follow me, alright?”

Despite his lack of stature, Yoosung proved to be particularly efficient at squeezing through the crowd; you were so afraid to lose sight of him and get lost in this suffocating mass of people that you didn’t even wave Rika goodbye.

You narrowly passed a few tables, topped with countless meals and flower bouquets; in the distance, you could see a stage-like platform, adorned with decorations to make it all the more prominent.

“It must be a little frightening, huh?”

Yoosung looked at you through his shoulder, as though to make sure you were still following behind him.

“I remember my first party. I had no idea where to stand or where to put my hands, and I chased after Rika all the time. To be honest, not a lot has changed.” .

He chuckled, nervously, and you smiled in return to show how much you appreciated his presence.

“I’m still thankful that you’re keeping me company right now. I would probably be all awkward in some dark corner if it wasn’t for you," you said.

At your words, you could have swore he started _bouncing -_ he picked up his pace in such an enthusiastic manner that anyone else would have thought leading a person through the crowd was the most exciting job in the world.

“You can feel safe with me! People sometimes call me Superman Yoosung, and there’s a good reason for that,” he paused, smiling sheepishly. “Well, no one really calls me that, but I like thinking I’m being helpful! There’s not much I can do for the party, but I’m going to protect you for sure! Crowds can be dangerous sometimes, you know?”

This boy, you thought, really had some sort of superpower - to put you at such perfect ease.

“I really feel important with such a capable bodyguard.”

For a moment, the two of you wandered around almost aimlessly, with Yoosung desperately trying to find the other members of RFA.

“I didn’t exactly expect the party to be at such a large scale,” you commented when a particular table, besieged by guests, caught your eye. “Everyone looks… really glamorous. And important. I’m not really sure I’m at their level; I can’t understand why Rika even invited me.”

Yoosung stopped abruptly, almost surprised at your words.

“You shouldn’t think like that, (Name). You might not know this yet, but Rika is actually really good at reading people. So if she’s so fond of you, you must be a good person,” his smile reaches his eyes. “I hope we get to know each other better soon! I really want to be friends with you too.” 

His excitement was almost contagious; you could not help but squeeze out a smile as well.

“Oh, and about the guests! This may sound really surprising, but even though they look kinda unapproachable, they’re actually really down to earth. Of course, there are some celebrities, prestigious organizations and corporate executives… But you can meet really eccentric people as well! Everyone here’s for the charity, after all.”

“The charity is for child headed households, right?”

Yoosung’s face lit up.

“That’s right! I guess you did some research, haha. It’s a personal cause, so Rika poured all of her heart into this party. She selected all of the guests herself, so everyone is kind hearted and respectful. You don’t need to worry about that.”

It felt almost amazing how he was able to decipher your worries almost instantaneously; empathy truly did run in their family, you thought.

You smiled.

With Yoosung in front of you, you surveyed the crowd for faces as well- you noticed that both Rika and Yoosung wore bright yellow lanyards, presumably a symbol of their membership. You were trying to find others that shared this characteristic, but it wasn’t exactly easy.

Just when your focus began to shift, Yoosung stopped abruptly. Without even mouthing you an explanation, he bolted to your right.

“(Name), we’re in luck!” he beamed as he quite literally lunged forward, fingers curled around your wrist to help you keep up with his pace. “Zen! Jaehee! Over here!”

The two people that responded to Yoosung’s call both had the same lanyards around their necks, so it didn’t take you long to put two and two together - these were two other members of the RFA.

The first to draw your attention was a tall man with silver hair and a tailored, unbuttoned suit; you couldn’t help but think that he was an actor, with such flawless features and the aura of elegant beauty. It was only natural to be drawn to someone who looked so outstandingly beautiful - smooth silver hair and a pair of red eyes, like someone straight out of a novel.

The woman next to him was shorter, her suit accentuating her generous figure- she had short hair and a rather strict looking expression, but her confident stance made her look pretty. 

“Yoosung, you look like you just ran a marathon” the man - Zen, you presumed - chuckled. His eyes quickly moved away from the boy to you, and then to Yoosungs fingers curled around your wrist. “Is the lady a friend of yours?”

Yoosung blinked, confused by his friends snarky expression; that was until he noticed his hold on you, and released your hand so abruptly it looked like he got burnt by your skin.

“O-O-Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- Rika just-” he stammered, rubbing the back of his head, a sweet blush blossoming in his cheeks. “Ahem. Zen, Jaehee, this is (Name), Rika’s- uhm- friend!”

The woman - Jaehee - inadvertently cocked her eyebrow at you.

“Friend…? From what I am aware, RFA parties are not held for personal purposes.”

Her gaze was intense - even though you didn’t do anything wrong, it felt as though you were being judged for leeching off Rika’s kindness, posing here as someone important when in reality you should have been there serving the drinks.

“I-”

“C’mon, Jaehee,” Zen drawled out almost teasingly. “If Rika invited her, I’m sure nothing bad will come out of it. She looks like a nice girl.”

He gave you a wink, and you wanted to mentally kick yourself for blushing. Curse him and his good looks. You had to take a picture and show it to Soo Ah - she always said those male leads couldn’t possible look that good in real life- and yet here was the perfect example of an insanely good looking guy.

“Rika actually wanted me to introduce (Name) to everyone in RFA” Yoosung explained.

“Introduce her to us? Are you a representative of some organization by any chance? Or the head of one of the corporations?” Jaehee fixed her glasses as though to inspect you more thoroughly. “I’m sorry if this comes off as rude, but I am confused as to why you would even attend this event if you have no connections to party guests.”

“It’s not like that!” Yoosung waved his hands around frantically; you appreciated his honest worry.

But Jaehee was asking the real questions, after all. Something you wanted to ask Rika yourself, and to hear a truthful answer this time.

“I... I’m not really sure,” you said honestly, much to the surprise of the three of them. “Rika asked me to come because I write a little, but I’m not great at it. She... probably felt sorry for me and tried to help me out.

Saying it out loud was humiliating; you couldn’t even look them in the eye, not when they would give you those pity-filled gazes you were so tired of.

“I understand,” Jaehee adjusted the hold on the papers pressed firmly against her chest. “However, the purpose of this event isn’t to network. The party guests are strictly from organizations related to the cause, as this is a fundraising event. In this particular case, it’s not even related to writing or books - Yoosung, are you sure Rika approved of this guest?”

Yoosung didn’t hesitate when he answered.

“Yeah! She was the one who invited (Name) in and personally asked me to introduce her to all of you guys! I...” Yousung turned to look at you, and smiled brightly. “I don’t think (Name) is a bad person at all, Jaehee. If you talk to her, you’ll know she’s actually really humble and nice!”

Jaehee sighed to that.

“Being ‘humble and nice’ isn’t exactly enough to be invited to a fundraising party...”

“But isn’t that sorta how I joined RFA?” Zen joined in quite abruptly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Rika was the one who believed in me when I was pretty much no one. So that might just be the case for (Name).”

“That’s...” Jaehee cleared her throat. “Your situation was entirely different, Zen. You’re immensely talented, and it’s only a matter of time-”

“Can’t that be the case for (Name) too?” He interjected, his eyes now focused entirely on you. It’s a gaze that’s hard to hold - the emotion in it is so clear, raw, unyielding. “We haven’t even seen her work, so I think we shouldn’t judge prematurely.”

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond to that - you distantly pondered that these people were kind and trusting to a flaw, and that people like Jaehee were needed to keep some sort of balance.

“Where are our manners!” Zen exclaimed, thrusting his hand towards you in a goodnatured manner. “It’s nice to meet you, (Name). I’m a musical actor, Zen, and I guess you could say that I’m part of the RFA? Currently single.”

He winked at that, and you shaked his hand - it was a warm, firm handshake.

Jaehee cleared her throat, meaningfully, when Zen's fingers lingered around yours for a moment too long.

“...At any rate, matters concerning this party and the RFA are confidential and may only be discussed among the members. So please do not share any of the sensitive information, Yoosung,” Jaehee gave him a hard look, before turning to face you. “You are more than welcome to take a seat with the rest of the guests, Miss. I hope you enjoy the party.”

Yoosung laughs nervously, his eyes darting to the side.

“O-Of course! I’ll just introduce her to others and show her to her seat then! Did you guys see Seven, Jumin or V by any chance?”

Zen shrugged; Jaehee is the one who pointed towards the podium.

“Mr Han is most likely networking with some of the guests, so you should find him somewhere close to the podium. From what I’ve seen, V was with him.”

With a quick wave and a small ‘thank you’, you trailed behind Yoosung, struggling not to bump shoulders with other guests and dodge misplaced chairs. It was almost impossible to see in such a thick crowd, but Yoosung navigated with ease.

"Don't let Jaehee scare you," Yoosung said when you were quite a distance away from the two RFA members. "She may sound a little strict, but it's only because she thinks of RFA as part of her work. She's not a bad person."

"I would be suspicious if I were here too," you confessed.

Once you reached a clearing, Yoosung pulled you towards a table, where you could comfortably gather air. 

“Hmmm... They’re usually much easier to spot, but there are so many guests that I can’t see them at all," Yoosung mused all the while turning his head left and right.

“It’s okay,” you panted. “Maybe let’s rest up a little, yeah? I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Yoosung looked surprised for a second, before blurting out apologies. You waved him off; it was more of your fault for slacking off and having he lowest stamina in the world, anyways.

“Do you want a drink?” Yoosung's forehead crinkled in worry as his eyes ransacked through the table piled with all sorts of meat, shrimp and chocolate fountains. 

You thanked Yoosung when he handed you a glass of water, which you gulped down earnestly.

This party was already turning out to be more extreme than you thought, and the main event hadn’t even started yet. If he just gives you another moment, you can-

“Huh? Isn’t that Jumin?” Yoosung turned away from you; squinting against the bright chadelier lights; his face soon lit up with familiarity and he started waving energetically. “Heey! Jumin!! Over here!”

You turned towards where the boy was pointing, squinting as well to spot this ‘Jumin’ person - but it proved to be quite hard to spot someone when you have no idea how they looked. The only person who stood out enough for you to notice was a tall, dark-haired-

Your first instinct wasn’t exactly lady-like, or befitting of the occasion - you ducked behind the tall chairs and candle holders. Underneath your breath, you mouthed just about every curse you know.

This couldn't be happening. Why now...? Why _you?_

“(Name), we should-” Yoosung’s excitement was soon replaced by sheer panic when he realized you weren't behind him. “Eh? (Name)?”

You shh'ed him loud enough to draw the attention of unassuming guests around you, and tugged at his sleeve to gain his full attention. A couple of ladies in chiffon dresses muttered something along the lines of “this isn’t a playground”.

“Yoosung, you need to be very quiet,” you murmured all the while trying to drag him to your eye level, the tips of your ears flaring red. “Can you lead me back to the main entrance without alerting anyone?”

Carefully, you tried to peek through the table - most of the men were in suits, so it was hard to spot one particular individual.

“Um, (Name)...? Is everything okay?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s just…” _It didn’t look like he noticed you? Then where the hell was he?_ “I’m suddenly feeling a bit faint, so I need to get some fresh air.”

Those were the wrong words. Yoosung soon turned on the full panic mode, his face clad in cold sweat.

“Should I fetch you some water? Did you eat dinner? Maybe I should get you something to sna-”

“I’m okay, Yoosung, it’s just-”

To hell with it. You couldn't risk staying here, to be humiliated by that guy again. Yoosung, the ever clueless and somewhat still amiable boy, was not even considering to lead you out of this place.

That meant you needed to book it yourself.

Still keeping your eyes on the crowd ahead, you sneakily stood, ignoring Yoosung who was trying to get a hold of you in the most gentle manner possible. With no hesitation, you lunged away from the table, away from Yoosung, away from the man that humiliated you -

Only to crash against a firm chest with all your strength. The impact was painful; and enough to knock you off balance.

You called out, desperately, as you started to fall; the person in front of you, the person with cold emotionless eyes, only needed to reach out and catch you - but he stood there, arms crossed over his chest, _observing._

When you realized no one was going to save you, you instictevely grabbed the first thing around you- most unfortunately, it just so happens to be the tablecloth of one of those immensely long, expensive-looking tables.

What happened after that, you didn’t truly register - it was already quite loud with the guests chatting and laughing, but when the dishes came crashing down on the floor, ironically what followed was deafening silence.

Drenched in punch and rainwater, covered in candles and food, you blinked twice at the man who hovered above you, seemingly unfazed by this entire situation. You, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to pitifully crawl under one of those tablecloths.

And then he spoke.

“You should watch where you’re going next time.”

It was almost as if he just bumped into a person on a shopping aisle; and with that he turned to walk away, while all the other guests looked at you with a mixture of disgust and pity.

You wouldn’t have asked for much. Usually, you had some sort of restraint when it came to your emotions. But this situation… The fact that he let you fall, dismissed you in such a cruel tone, left you in a literal pool of food and shattered plates; not to mention your general bitterness towards the rich, towards _him..._

It brought you to the point where you could only see red.

What followed after, you liked to think, was not reflective of who you were as a person. But it was definitely a good representation of your relationship with Jumin Han.

In the most casual manner, you reached for whatever was closest to you - which just so happened to be a disgusting mixture of food - and threw it at the very center of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka reader starting a food fight with jumin writing this actually made me laugh oml  
> V is probably also dying from laughter in the background  
> reader just yeeted it  
> can you imagine yeeting food at jumin han  
> Is reader going to die next chapter  
> find out next week!!!!


	4. Savior

**[trigger warnings: anxiety, suicidal thoughts]**

It was a triumphant moment.

Nothing really mattered - Yoosung’s indignant cries, guests’ murmurs and glares, the slimy mixture of pork rib sauce and punch splattered all over your dress all became irrelevant. There was only you, your insolent grin, and _him._

He wasn’t hiding like always. He gave you his all in that moment. The indifferent, emotionless stare had flared up, his brows pinched, his lips pressed into a firm line. Textbook anger. Seeing him worked up like that made you almost giddy.

“(Name)!!” Yoosung was hyperventilating by that point. “Wh- why would you do something like that to Jumin?”

Jumin? That meant he was a member of RFA. It made no sense for Rika to associate with someone like him; but you supposed that RFA did need the money.

Your petty, mischief filled glare turned harder.

“Jumin!” Yoosung whipped his head around to his male friend, clasping his hands together in wordless prayer. “Please don’t get angry! I have no idea what just happened, but (Name) is really kind!”

His words wouldn’t make it better. There was nothing that could make this better, you thought, trembling with both apprehension of your actions and anxiety at his silence.

Your wordless battled continued, with both of you standing there unflinching.

“You two…” Yoosung’s whined, his head dropping. “Rika wanted you to get along so badly… This is an absolute disaster!”

Jumin perked up at those words.

“Rika did?” His voice, at the mention of her name, grew subtly softer - or was it just your imagination? “It’s quite uncharacteristic of her to invite someone so tactless.”

_Tactless…? Isn’t this a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black?_

The anger inside of you flared up again, and you jumped to your feet, startling poor Yoosung. You sure in hell hoped Jumin liked hospital food - he’d probably go to a private ward anyway, so you had no qualms about beating him up whatsoever.

“You-” you hissed seethingly, but at that precise moment Yoosung jumped to the rescue - it wasn’t really clear exactly who he was trying to rescue, though.

“Seven!” He practically shouted, waving his arms around as though in hopes of dispelling the tension. “I think I just saw him!” frantically, Yoosung clasped his hands around your wrist and started to drag you, despite your protests. “We have to go find Seven, ahahaha! Jumin, see you later!!”

It was not an ideal way to defuse the situation, but by the time you felt stable on your feet Yoosung had already pulled you into the comfort of a thick crowd. Against your better judgement, you yanked your wrist out of Yoosung’s hold, scanning the crowd for the man you needed to exact your revenge on.

When all failed, you returned your undivided attention to the boy, who tensed at your intense stare.

“I’m not crazy,” you said sharply, rubbing your forearms self-consciously at the glares from the passing guests. “Your friend deserved what I did. In fact, he deserved so much worse than that. So I’m not going to apologize” Yoosung cocked his head to the side at your words, as if desperately trying to understand. You… didn’t know how to explain, so you just sighed. “I know he’s your friend so it makes sense for you not to believe anything I say. You’re probably upset with me for not only doing that Jumin, but also for publicly embarrassing you. Hah,” you laughed in a humorless, breathy manner. The implications of your actions only hit hard when you spelled them out loud. “In that case, you don’t need to help me out anymore. You already… did enough. After this party, we’ll probably never going to see each other again. I appreciate your help this evening but-”

“(Name)!” Yoosung says abruptly, but not harshly; he looks almost hurt by your words. “I I know Jumin! And that’s exactly why I understand what you mean… kinda,” he scractched the back of his head, awkwardly. “So, um, I don’t think what you did was right, but Jumin is very clueless and tactless most of the time, so he can definitely come off as aloof or even mean. Even so…” Yoosung paused, as if unsure how to exactly phrase his thoughts. “Well, I know you have no reason to believe me, but he’s not a bad person. He sometimes has trouble expressing himself, and he’s in a world of his own, but I’ve never seen him act maliciously.”

You crossed your arms.

“I realize that no person is one-dimensional,” you said slowly, weighing each of your word. “But you putting up a good word for him is not going to make me instantly like him. In fact, I think I’d scratch his eyes out if I saw him right now.”

Yoosung chuckled.

“It’s good that you’re honest! I think that’s something both you and Jumin have in common. Maybe under different circumstances… With different timing, the two of you could have even become friends?”

You didn’t like the comparison or the implications, but decided not to push your dislike of the man further. You already felt indebted to Yoosung for everything he did tonight, so you at least owned him the faint hope of you and his other friend getting along. In some alternative universe.

Together, the two of you kept sauntering around for a little longer. With the guests flowing in relentlessly, it got even harder to find specific people - ‘especially a master of disguise, Seven!’, as Yoosung put it. It gave you ample time to get to know each other better - Yoosung pretty much invited you to his graduation ceremony and told you about how Rika got him into volunteering; you opened up about your passion for writing and told him about Soo Ah, glossing over the fight the two of you shared just days ago.

It was easy to talk to him, because he was young, and eager to learn - to him, your social status couldn’t mean less, and you didn’t have to pretend to be someone you weren’t.

When Yoosung stopped abruptly, you thought the two of yuo finally found another RFA member, but Yoosung’s expression was different.

“Isn’t that the Romance Novel Society?” Yoosung remarked while in deep thought, pointing towards a group of neatly dressed women. When his face turned towards you, he was glowing. “(Name)! This is the perfect chance for you to meet someone in the industry!”

You didn’t exactly mirror his enthusiasm; your palms and forehead broke out into a heavy, clammy torrent of sweat, and for a moment you lost your grasp on words.

That moment of silence was enough for Yoosung to misunderstand - he smiled giddily and pulled you towards the group, hastily introducing you to the women, and giving you a thumbs up as he stepped back.

With that, you were pretty much thrusted into a society you could only ever dream of - where the most popular South Korean female authors shared their inspiration, newest work, characters, ideas. You felt self-conscious in that moment - to begin with, you could not match these women in their glamour, and now you were also dirty.

You bow lowly, a couple times too many.

They resumed their conversation without acknowledging you, and awkwardly, you tried to inch into their circle; just to heard them speak, to be a little bit closer to their world, a world you dreamed of everyday.

“...what an embarrassment! I understand that this is the charity party, but we need to uphold some level of class.” One of the writers spoke while covering her mouth with her gloved hand.

“I saw her get all chubby with my Zenny~” another one pouted.

“Honestly, if I was Rika I couldn’t even face the guests on the stage, after inviting such a savage.”

Your shoulders drooped, and unsettling realization dawning upon you. _They were talking… about you? You… were an embarrassment to Rika?_

Your meek disposition did not go unnoticed by the writers - the woman that stood in front of you perked up at the sight of you shrinking, your eyes scurrying on the floor.

“Hm? You. Come closer,” she invited you with a flicker of the wrist, and reluctantly, you stepped into their circle, drinking up their undivided attention. “Aren’t you the young writer we heard so much about?”

She smiled wryly and nudged one of her friends to look at you.

“Oh yes!” the other writer, who you recognized by her pen name Jennie, clasped her palms together excitedly. “We were all so curious about you! Where did you get your creative writing degree?”

Awkwardly, you shuffled your feet, not sure how to get out of this uncomfortable situation.

“I… didn’t get a degree in creative writing,” you stammered out.

“You don’t have a creative writing degree?” she raised her eyebrows. The writer that stood to your left inadvertently snorted.

“Oh come now Jennie, there are some who have a talent that doesn’t even need to be kindled,” the one in front of you said, punctuating each word. “You were probably scouted early by a publisher, correct?”

With their earnest gazes, you weren’t sure if they waited for a confirmation.

“I…er… I don’t have a publisher,” you mouthed, wanting to disappear on that exact moment.

And uncomfortable silence stood.

“Oh!” the lady to your left piped up, smiling from ear to ear. “How silly of us! Of course someone with your talent would want to be self-published! After all, publishing houses take so long do to the job, and the royalties aren’t exactly the most flattering.”

You shrunk even further. _Just endure… They will move on once they’re satisfied…_

_Just imagine that you’re an actress, and this is a movie about an unfortunate girl. Just imagine that you aren’t here._

“I… I’m not exactly equipped to self-publish either…”

“Oh my!” they gasp. “Don’t tell me you’ve been approaching publishers but they all rejected you? That can’t be true, right?”

You lowered your head, unable to hold their gazes anymore. Your throat went tight… What exactly did you even expect? If the publishers didn’t see anything in your work, in _you,_ why would these people? Especially when you pretty much cemented your image into one of a savage, slob, short-tempered, tactless woman…

“Oh, enough about this~” Jennie patted you lightly on the shoulder. “Did you see? Some girl just attacked Jumin-oppa! Honestly, I’ve never been startled that much, and no less at a fundraising party!”

Oppa… If the situation was any less, you would have cringed at her word choice.

“I-I-”

“Honestly, what was Rika thinking inviting that girl? Someone dangerous like that should be closed up somewhere for everyone’s safety. Maybe a zoo?” Jennie looked directly into your eyes as she savored each word.

 _Just endure…_ You squeezed your fists at your sides, battling down the gut-wretching sobs.

“Aish, Jennie,” the other woman said, teasingly tapping her friends shoulder. “I bet Rika invited her to evoke a little bit of pity. You know, all of the people here are achievers, so they’d naturally feel bad for someone like her… Just a greasy little nobody.”

You were just watching it unfold; those women, gauging out your every reaction, coyly smiling and laughing as you stood voiceless.

“Aaah~” Jennie smirked. “Silly me. That’s probably why Jumin-oppa didn’t even have his bodyguards apprehend her. It would have been too embrassaing for someone of his status to even acknowledge her.”

“Exactly,” the other woman leered at you as she spoke in a sacharrine voice. “Why would anyone put their time and energy into such a waste of space?”

_Waste of space….? A nobody…? An embarrassment…?_

You heard all of that before, from none other than yourself. But to hear these things from other people, people you looked up to so much…

The pain was unbearable, and you thought you were going to faint from holding in your breath.

With that, the lights went off suddenly, gaining a couple of gasps from the guests. You could not even see the person standing next to you, but everything you felt up until then - shame, humiliation, sense of worthlessness- multiplied to the point you could not longer hold it in.

Your eyes welled up, and a sob threatened to spill.

“Good evening everyone and welcome to the Rika’s Fundraising Association Party Dinner! I am your host, Rika, and on the behalf on the RFA, I wanted to express gratitude to all of you that have gathered here today!”

It was Rika’s voice that echoed, bright and powerful. She stood at the top of the platform in the middle of the hall, enveloped by the rich, golden light, her proud stance making it impossible to look away from her.

“With the immenseful success of our last party, we wanted to first thank you for the generosity of your donations, and for coming here tonight.”

Rika bowed, and smiled brightly when people began to clap.

You, on the other hand, could not stand the words of those women echoing in your head over and over again. The pain itself choked you, broke your bones, made your head spin - so you could not stay there any longer.

After all, you could not bear to see the look on their faces again, when they saw you sobbing out so pitifully.

“.…As you may already aware, this party is aimed at gathering charitable funds for child-headed households, namely essential support in terms of food, medicine and access to school.”

So you lunged past the crowd, not caring one bit about guests’ indignant cries and shouts at you - all you wanted to do was to get away, so they wouldn’t see your tears or hear your sobs. They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve to see the fruits of their own evil.

“...We will start off the evening with a short networking session among the party guests, and then we will move on the auction…”

Rika’s voice grew fainter, your view obscured by tears. You’re an embarrassment… You should just disappear… Rika… Rika is probably disgusted by the mere sight of you, she’s probably..!

It was a second time that night that you bumped into a man’s chest, but this time the person’s hands flew out immediately to steady you on your feet.

“Woah, there! Are you okay?”

Instinctively, you raised your eyes to meet his. It was a mistake, as they filled up with pity. Even the warmth of his hands made you want to flinch away and to shrink, to disappear.

“...Before I let you all proceed with the party, I want to make an important announcement. As you know, the only reason why this party could commence is because of the wonderful RFA members - most of you will have met them by now!”

“You-” the man mouthed but you slipped out of his hold and bolted towards the exit. Just a few more steps..!

“To ensure that the parties can commence with no interuption as we expand our scope, I would like everyone to give a round of applause for our newest member - (Full name)!”

Your knees buckled under you and you latched onto a nearby wall, turning around to face the stage, and Rika.

_Did… she really…?_

The guests gave a round of applause, with some muttering among themselves, most likely something along the lines of ‘Who exactly is this (Full name)?’. Rika was clapping herself, with one of her hands still holding the microphone. Her eyes were earnest and confident as she looked into the crowd.

It… wasn’t a joke.

Everything else turned into a blur, and you felt sick, light-headed, and your erratic thoughts commanded you to bolt outside.

The crisp evening air was just enough to snap you out of your trance. You finally released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and it took all your strength not to colapse right away. 

You started crying. So honestly, from the bottom of your heart, pouring the pain into the night that greedily took it in.

All of those hurtful things… All of your hopes… Everything that happened here tonight…

Was there really any point in pushing forward? If there really was no way you could ever be happy?

You trembling hands dialed the only number they knew could provide comfort.

….Beeping, beeping...

A waste of space. A waste of time. The tears kept falling on your phone, blurring out Soo Ah’s number.

But there was no answer.

It made sense, after all. You were just a bother. To everyone. Rika, Soo Ah… Why did you even leave the house? How could you have hoped for it to get better? Why didn’t you know your place?

You collapsed on the stairs, trembling at the cool surface of the stone. Pressing your phone to your forehead, you sobbed, uncomfortably. The more you tried to tame those sobs, the harder they became.

"Please Soo Ah, I really need you… Please pick up… Please come pick me up from this place… I’m sorry… You were right. So please, please help me forget about everything that happened. It hurts so much that I feel like dying..." 

There was no answer. Only the monotonous beeping and your heart-wrenching cries. 

You buried your face in your palms. If this pain is never going to go away… Why do you even need to keep on going?

“Is the seat taken?” it was a light-hearted voice, but still somewhat cautious, as if not to scare you; it was the voice of the man you so clumsily bumped into. Did he follow you here...? Furiously, you tried to wipe your tears away, but you knew the puffiness wasn’t going away that easily. “I can’t stand being inside, so if we just pretend to be here together, maybe no one will bother us.”

You expected him to say a lot things, and you already prepared the textbook answers - ‘I’m okay, thanks for worrying’, ‘It’s not appropriate for me to talk about these things to a stranger’ or something along those lines - but you did not have a comeback for what he said.

Gingerly, you turned to look at him - your eyes puffy, your dress drenched in the evening dinner. He didn’t look like the people out there, trim and proper - with bright red curls sticking out of place, and glasses tilted just a little too much to the left - and the sheepish, kind look on his place.

You nodded, wiping down your tears, but they kept on spilling.

“I just made a literal fool out of myself,” he took a seat with a sigh. “I just couldn’t resist the urge to make the worst pun in the universe in front of some super important business person."

Tentatively, you tilted your head to look at him, at least a little curious. You could swear he quirked a smile when he catched your interest by the corner of his eye.

“So apparently he was a banker or something like that…” he sighed, shaking his head in mock disbelief, as though he was telling a story about some embarrassing stranger and not himself. “And it was so awkward, my God. He was like the driest person around. And then I got this urge… This little, tiny urge I couldn’t suppress… And said: ‘Oh, I used to be a banker as well! But then I lost interest.”

You looked at him, dumbfounded. For a moment, silence stood and he turned to look at you, a goofy smile on his face.

“Pf… Pff, hahaha!” you could not help but let a laugh slip, despite tears still streaming down your face. “No way you said something that stupid! No one in their right mind would say such an awful pun out loud!”

His hand flew to his chest in mock hurt gesture.

“What can I say…” he announced solemnly. “I am one brave man.”

You continued to giggle - it’s honestly not funny, but the fact this man just walked up to you and told you this crazy story was unbelievable.

“I’m sorry to say this,” you muttered while wiping tears - a mixture of both childish joy and your previous torment. “But it looks like you might need to move countries after making such an awful pun.”

“Right!??” He said, heatedly, the mirth in his eyes making you giggle even harder. “How can I show my face around these lands anymore..?” he clasped his hands in prayer and looked up to the sky, earnestly. “Ancestors, forgive me for my sins. I will never tell another pun again.”

You snorted.

“I doubt that would be possible for someone like you.”

“Oho! Look at you speak down to your lord, girl!” He crossed his arms, straightening his back as to appear even taller - like one of those stuck-up scholars from Goryo era. “Youngsters nowadays are getting too bold, I see. Discipline must be administered.”

“Discipline?” you cocked out a brow. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oho!” he exclaimed once more, unable to sheathe his smile anymore. “As the old proverb says, don’t challenge a master of puns.” 

“I didn’t know we had a proverb expert among our ranks,” You replied as you leaned back, resting your palms on the wet rock surface. “I feel like I did something good in my past life. Why else would I be bestowed such a grace?”

He pressed a hand to his chest, cheerily. “That just proves my angelic heritage. I am always there for people that need me. If you spin around three times and call out my name, I'm going to appear in front of you and make all of your problems disappear.”

He could not hold back your smile - when was the last time you laughed like this, anyways…?

“I’m glad to see the two of you together,” You both sprung from your positions, as if caught red-handed; it was Rika who stood at the entrance, smiling brightly, her fingers interlinked at the front. You noted a tall man next to her, with a gentle expression on his face - he was the photographer V who’s work was going to be auctioned at the party. “Thank you for taking care of our newest member, Luciel.”

The boy - Luciel - looked a bit surprised by the statement. “Newest member…? Does that mean you’re (Full name)?”

You looked at him, dumbfounded - he’s a member, as well?

And then all of the things that this boy - Luciel - somehow pushes to the back of your head came crashing back. Those intense emotions once more wrung your body in pain, and you bolted to your feet to face Rika.

“Rika… What you said, it was a joke, right? Me, being part of your organization, that would be a mistake, surely, you know this..."

“A mistake?” She repeated sharply, as though hurt. “I thought my decision would make you happy." 

You lowered your eyes. Happy? How could you be happy at the expense of others? 

“Rika…” V's voice echoed, almost as a soft-spoken warning, but she only stepped closer to you, her attention unflinching. 

“Please just give it a chance, (Name),” Rika’s hands clasped around yours - they were warm and tender, but her eyes weere bordering desperation. _Why…?_ “I need someone to edit my speeches, and to look through the emails I send. Someone who writes so earnestly like you is perfect for this kind of job.”

You opened your mouth, but Rika is first to speak, as if reading your thoughts. “I’m not doing charity with you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I needed a person who would help me, now that my health is worsening,” there was a crinkle in her brow. “An assistant, you could say? Would such a title please you?”

“Rika, I-”

“I’m almost certain you’re going to enjoy it,” she said reassurinly, pleadingly. “I promise that being in RFA is going to shield you from all that suffering,” she murmured tentatively as she brushed your cheek. “Please, just give me more time, (Name). I promise I will make the pain go away.”

You weren’t sure what Rika was saying, but her touch was so gentle, and her eyes were filled with worry and love. It felt strange, as though she was revealing some secret part of her; not the cheerful, charismatic party coordinator, but something that lay underneath the surface, pretense layer.

The intensity of her gaze made you shudder.

“Rika…” V spoke once more, careful and soft. “I think your friend has been through quite a lot today. We should let her go rest.”

At that Rika turned to look at him; her hold on you became lighter.

 _Was V against you entering…? You could tell from the pleading look in his eyes that he didn’t agree with the decision._ You smiled sadly; you couldn’t blame him. You were a nobody. Humiliating, useless -

Your throat grew tight with sobs and tears again. Inadvertedly, you squeezed Rika’s hand tighter.

“You and Luciel should head back to help with the party,” she said firmly. “I’ll be right behind you, with (Name).”

They didn’t question her decision, and you held out long enough for them to leave.

Rika led you to sit over the ledge, never letting go of your hand; sobs continued to rack your body, intensifying. Her warmth and kindness… It was too much. You ruined everything today, betrayed her every hope for you... And yet here she was, being so kind, so present, so patient...

“I’m sorry for making you see me like this, Rika,” you said, voice hollow. “I - I’m so selfish and I” it hurted, to try to tame down your cries; the more you tried to stay quiet, the louder you became. “I-”

“Shhh,” her fingertips threaded through your hair, her eyes warm. “It’s not you that’s at fault… I was hoping that I could make you happy through this party… But now still you’re suffering so much” Rika murmured, but her gaze was unfocused; it almost felt as though she was not truly there with you.

“I- I only make others suffer too… Is there any point in living, if, if it’s only brief moments of happiness and long periods of such unimaginable pain?” you sobbed out, clutching to your chest.

She didn't turn to face you anymore; her gaze was stuck on one particular point on the road, distant, pensative. “I guess… I was right all along. And he doubted. It’s impossible to erase the suffering here.”

Her voice was weak against the shuffle of the cars. You weren't sure you understood.

“No it’s… not true,” you shook your head, throat suddenly tight again with cries. “It was always me. I’m the one who makes others suffer, because there’s nothing I can do right. I guess… I’m an embarassment, useless… But I have so much arrogance, which doesn’t fit someone so worthless…”

You weren’t sure if she heard you, but the strength of her hand was surprising. It was as though she was determined to let you know she was there with you, for you no matter the circumstances. In that very moment, however, it felt like the person squeezing your hand and the person with the distant look on their face were two different individual altogether.

“Our desires… Are implements of suffering…” she said, more to herself than to you.

You dropped your head lower, but your cries grew louder.

“I’m just tired of it all… If it never gets better than this… Then…” your breath hitched and you took a moment for the sobs to ease enough to let you speak. “There’s no place on this world where I could be happy, Rika… There really isn’t. No matter how much I push forward, I just suffer more and more… I’m not strong enough, I don’t think I can take it.”

Her lifeless gaze, which was fixed on the street for so long, suddenly flickered to you.

“(Name)…” she clung to you suddenly, her hands desperate to yank you closer. “What if I could… Save you? What if there was a place where there was no suffering?”

You looked at her, puzzled.

“Such a place doesn’t exist, Rika.”

“But if it existed, would you come with me? Would you help me cleanse the world of suffering?” Her eyes were erratic, unfocused; and the way she clawed at your hands was almost painful. She looked at you in an earnest gaze, but it was scary, deep down- it felt as though she wasn’t truly herself. “If you are by my side… If you replace my sun… Yes, I’m sure it will be fine with you… And you’ll be free as well…” she nibbled on nail, pupils unfocused.

“Rika…” You were so desperate to understand what she meant; so desperate to be there for her like she was there for you. But you couldn’t. She was tormeted by the suffering of others, but in your own state of torment there was nothing you could do to reassure her. “There is no such place, free of suffering… If there really was, we’d all be desperate to get there.”

At that, Rika smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

“Right?” she laughed, her voice hollow. “I knew it. I knew you would understand. You understand me… I’ll just have to show you, and save you…”

In that moment, even though you could not tell the meaning of her words, something changed. It was reassuring. To hear someone say that. To squeeze your hand like that. To put so much care into your existence.

You felt yourself relax into her warmth... As though nothing more mattered in that moment. 

“(Name).”

The man that called you in that soft voice was V, who stood behind the two of you. His eyes were almost solemn, but he didn’t say anything, just smiled in his characteristically gentle smile.

“I think it’s time for you to go.”

He hoisted you off the stairs, and you were thankful that he allowed you to lean against him. It was draining; this entire day.

“It’s been a stressful day,” he said, seemingly to you, his eyes never leaving Rika’s form. “She… Needs to rest as well. I asked Luciel to take you back home, because it’s already quite late.”

You nodded meekly and thanked him, but did not muster up the courage to address your membership, or Rika’s current state. She didn’t even look at you when you left, and your heart swelled - she was sensitive and kind, and once more you poured all of your worries to burder her.

_How selfish…_

You didn't talk to Luciel - or Seven, as he insisted you call him - about what happened that night. As soon as you climbed into his car and he cracked a few jokes about it being a spaceship in disguise (it was racing car that cost more than 10 years of your salary, so for all that you knew, it could really be), your body relaxed and your thoughts dissipated.

Maybe… Maybe you can just deal with all of this some other day. Right now you didn’t even know where to start.

Seven kept the casual conversation going; it was mostly light, as he explained more about RFA, and told you how he was pretty much the ‘mastermind’ behind the messenger app. You thanked him profusely for taking you home; especially when your house was quite a ride away.

“That’s the least I can do to earn the love of our newest member~”

His car didn’t really match his disposition - it was one of those that you would be too scared to walk near to, fearing to scratch it. But his cheery smile made you relax and lazily count the headlights of the passing cars.

“Shouldn’t I be the one sucking up to my senior?” you said, melting into the comfort of the passenger seat. “Or are you being nice because you usually bully the new members at their initiation?”

He cackled, stealing a glance at you. “The worst I can do is tease you a little bit! So as long as you’re not as gullible as our little Yoosung, you’ll be fine.”

It was… easy to talk to him. It felt like you’ve known him forever, and there was no need for the formalities and pleasantries you were so used. You weren’t being judged here. You didn’t have to fill a role. You didn’t have to talk about who you were, or who you wanted to be. You just existed in the moment. And all of the events of the evening felt like a fever dream.

“How long have you known Rika for?” you asked; Seven looked at you with a more serious expression briefly, before returning his gaze to the road ahead.

“Ever since I was a kid… Rika is such a good person. I guess you could say she saved my life.”

“That sounds like our Rika,” you giggled sleepily, content just looking at the flashing scenery. “There’s really no one like her.”

Your attention drifted, and almost in a sleepy daze your eyes focused on the faint freckles on his nose, the taunt stretch of his bicep against the suit, the chiseled line of his brow…

Your cheeks flooded with heat.

Were you really… This person… You just met…?

But you couldn’t help but think that someone so quirkly, funny, laid back, with a unique kind of charm… made your stomach ripple with some sort of excitement.

… Maybe it was the situation. It was totally because you were sad and pitiful, and mentally exhausted. So these thoughts… They were just gratefulness. Yes. They had to be! Gratefulness…

“...are you listening?” he gave you a quick peak before returning his eyes to the road.

“Hmm? I mean- Huh?” you blinked, before tensing up in your seat, blushing madly; you were just checking him out, how embarrassing! “Sorry, I spaced out for a sec.”

Seven laughed. “It’s okay. I know it’s hard to concentrate with me in your presence. Do you want me to turn on conditioning? It’s getting hot in here, isn’t it?” he teased, drawling out each syllable.

You blushed again, and pushed him lightly on the shoulder. _This guy…_ “Hey! Don’t get cocky!”

“Hehehe,” his goofy laugh was all it took to rip a smile across your face. “I can’t help it if I was born this way~”

You rolled your eyes, but the edges of your lips refused to come down. With him around, was it impossible not to smile? “Anyways… You were saying?”

Seven blinked a few times, trying to remember what he wanted to say. Suddenly, he has an ‘aha’ moment and wagged his finger triumphantly. “About the messenger app! I already created your account, so once I send you the login details, you’re good to go. Just keep them safe and secret, okay?”

You gave him a thumbs up. “O-k, sir!”

When it was time for you to leave, you were almost sad; time with Seven flew by. It was... strangely comfortable. Like snuggling into an old blanket that could magically take away your sadness and worries.

You couldn’t help but tuck away a strand of your hair behind your ear when you bid your goodbyes.

The apartment was still in the messy state you left it in, and you sighed that no magical housekeeper came around to clean it for you. As soon as you plopped into the bed, you knew you weren't getting up from it anytime soon - so you checked your phone despite your lazy state, only to find it flashing bright.

**From: Wifey**

_U ok?_

It was from Soo Ah.

You lingered. You wanted to tell her everything that happened: the RFA, the Jumin fiasco, the writers’ humiliating you, Rika asking you to join… and… Seven…

But you struggled to put those things down. You didn’t know where to start, or where to finish.

**To: Wifey**

_yeah, it’s k. sorry for bothering you so late at night._

She didn’t say anything after that; but the sharp bright tick of ‘read’ carved into your heart. It wasn’t as if you expected something; even if she kept on persevering, you don’t think you would have told her anything.

You scrolled down to the second message.

**From: Unknown number**

_Hey (Name), this is Seven! I linked the login details for you down below._

You quickly added Seven’s number; you almost kicked yourself when you wanted to add an affectionate nickname.

Mature, (Name), you are mature. Mature people don’t make decisions and judgements based on first impressions.

You sighed; pressing the link Seven provided, with excitement bubbling at the bottom of your stomach.

**_Welcome to RFA_ **

_(Name) has entered the chatroom._

707: lololol party wrecker

ZEN: The agency said that they weren't interested, and told me to come back next year;;

ZEN: I didn't expect much but...

ZEN: It's honestly so frustrating;;

ZEN: Oh!!

ZEN: It's the woman of the hour!

707: Our newest member!! How exciting that we're going to be the first ones to chat with her!!!

(Name): hello

ZEN: Hello

ZEN: You left so abruptly I didn't even get to say goodbye.

ZEN: I still cannot believe I didn't get to see you throwing food at the Trust Fund Kid lmao

ZEN: Yoosung almost had a heart attack telling me about it

ZEN: I think he has PTSD hahaha

Jumin Han: 

707: lolololololololol

707: LOLOLOLOLOLOL

Jumin Han: **Stop laughing.**

707: Scary cat mom!! ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ

Jumin Han: I told you not to call me that.

707: But it's so fun~

707: Grumpy Jumin's the cutest!!

Jumin Han: ...

ZEN: ;;

ZEN: Anyways....

ZEN: (Name)! Welcome to RFA!

ZEN: Wasn't it flustering to have Rika announce it out of nowhere like that? Haha 

ZEN: But...

ZEN: Even though it was a little sudden

ZEN: We're really happy you joined!

ZEN: Though it must be really stressful for you.

ZEN: Are you sure you're okay being in the same chatroom as the Mr Director? 

(Name): thanks for worrying about me but its okay

(Name): i mean i didn't join for him

(Name): i joined because rika asked me

707: I....

707: I just realized

707: RFA will soon become a battleground for the epic fight between (Name) and Jumin!!

Jumin Han: **Stop **shitting around.****

707: GAAH!!! ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ x2

ZEN: ;;

ZEN: Hey Trustfundkid

Jumin Han: ?

ZEN: Now that (Name) is a member of RFA, be sure to treat her nice.

Jumin Han: I do not hold it against her.

Jumin Han: I'm not as fickle as you, Zen.

Jumin Han: I am perfectly understanding of her situation - Rika and V explained everything.

Jumin Han: Even empirical studies show that women in their mid-twenties are quite prone to psychosis due to high degree of stress and sleep deprivation.

ZEN: Fickle?? ;;

ZEN: WHO ARE YOU CALLING FICKLE?!

(Name): ...

(Name): did you

(Name): did you just call me 'psychotic'? 

707: 

Jumin Han: ...?

Jumin Han: You certainly have a crude way of apologizing, but I will accept it because we are now in the same organization.

Jumin Han: No need to thank me.

Jumin Han: I may not understand the reason why Rika decided that you should join RFA...

Jumin Han: But I trust her enough not to doubt her decision.

Jumin Han: So I might even consider lending you a book I have about disturbances of the mental state and how to tackle them.

Jumin Han: After all, being aware of your condition is the key to tackle it.

ZEN: 

ZEN: Please tell me I just imagined that...

ZEN: Did he really just say that to (Name)?

707: lolololol

707: Even (Name)'s speechless.

707: Do you think she's on her way to Jumin's apartment to kill him

Jumin Han: I have to go feed Elizebeth the 3rd, so if you have nothing more to say, I'll be off.

Jumin Han: (Name).

Jumin Han: I hope you do not disappoint Rika and prove yourself to be useful to this organization.

Jumin Han: Otherwise... RFA may need to reconsider your membership.

_Jumin Han has left the chatroom._

707: lolololol

707: Jumin and (Name)

707: Are going to make this chat super heated!!

(Name): ...not funny

(Name): i just spent a good minute typing a messafe and he just left??!

(Name): is he trying to be a major douchebag intentionally or does it come naturally?

ZEN: ...I like (Name) already.

ZEN: Don't pay too much attention to that jerk.

707: Mr Director... Is truly a heartless corporate shark.

ZEN: LOL

(Name): i cant believe he just left like that

(Name): well

(Name): im not going to see him around a lot

(Name): but just the fact that he said what he said

(Name): and then just left

(Name): and then made it look like it was him who was being considerate!!

(Name): WHAT A PRETENTIOUS JERK

707: Hohoho~

707: Jumin needs to watch out now.

707: But I don't think he meant to insult you y'know

707: Our Jumin is like that sometimes ~

ZEN: Our? ;;

707: Anyways....

707: Duty is calling;;;

707: More like banging on my door;;

707: HOWEVER

707: (Name) I look forward to chatting with you a lot lololol

707: But now

707: I must depart

707: Seven Zero Seven must return to his rightful kingdom!!

707: The world of darkness!!

(Name): are you gonna stay up worign?

ZEN: typo

707: Sadly

707: I'm just a slave to money

(Name): i look forward to chatting w you too!!!

(Name): and thanks for tonight

(Name): it really meant a lot

707: No worries!

707: Seven Zero Seven!!!

707: Defender of Justice!!

707: Defender of (Name)!!!

ZEN: It looks like she's plenty of capable of defending herself.

707: That's true!

707: I must go now!! Byebye!!!

_707 has left the chatroom._

ZEN: (Name)...

ZEN: I'm sorry your first chat had to be with the crazy alien and the corporate asshole.

ZEN: They're really not a good representation of what RFA is.

ZEN: We're actually not that weird.

ZEN: Yoosung and Jaehee... And V and Rika...

ZEN: They're good people.

(Name): i know.

(Name): i'm... not really sure if there's much i can do for your organization

(Name): but just know i'll try my best

(Name): and i'm really sorry if i sorta

(Name): ruined the party for you guys

(Name): i hope you dont have a bad impression of me because of this

ZEN: You're already pretty cool in my book for kicking that dude's ass

ZEN: Anyways...

ZEN: I'd really want to stay up chatting with you

ZEN: But I need to wake up early tomorrow

(Name): thats fine! it was rly nice meeting you!! goodnigth!!

ZEN: Goodnight!

ZEN: Oh, and (Name)...

ZEN: Dream about me tonight~

_ZEN has left the chatroom._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a big boy chapter i almost died writing this  
> it feels... a little rushed. but i did need to squeeze in a lot of things here.  
> also i know i said this is a slowburn... and its a slowburn alright... it's chapter 4 and we're not even close to the main premise of the story  
> i'm a horrible writer i'm so sorry  
> anyways!!! i wanted to thank you so much for the 50 kudos and 3 bookmarks!! like honestly, your support and your comments literally make my day and help a lot with motivation to write!! i hope you enjoyed the chapter and see you guys soon <3


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